Imperfect Views
by Happii Haden
Summary: The blond hadn't even registered the warm wetness on his cheeks. He didn't register the pit in his stomach as he looked down at the crowded city below. He only climbed over wordlessly and held out his hand.


Happy anniversary to me. I've been on fanfic for eight years now! This was written out of nowhere and in one go.

WARNING: Sensitive subjects regarding suicide

Rated: T

Word Count: 4k

Naruto © Kishimoto

Story © Happii Haden

Title © Rogue

* * *

Sunset.

Deidara looked down. Cars and people bustling below. Not a single soul had bothered to even look up at him. No, they were all too busy with their phones. Pitiful. He heaved a sigh, fingers and toes curling. The wind rustled his blond hair. His feet planted on the ledge firmly, however, all it would take is one slip. Deidara leaned over the streets, towering over the tiny people on the sidewalks. One foot. Heart erratic.

"If you're going to jump, you should go to the roof. Chance of survival is much lower from that height."

The voice startled him. His head whipped around, grip nearly slipping.

A man, leaning onto his own small balcony, but from the safe side. Scarlet red hair contrasting against his pale skin. Couldn't have been any older than himself. He wore a bored expression, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. He couldn't even bother to look at Deidara as he spoke.

"You are trying to kill yourself, right?"

Deidara was stunned to say the least. It wasn't most people's reaction when encountering a suicidal person. His mouth hung slightly open, at a loss of words for the other.

"Well, don't let me hold you up. If it's what you really want to do, then go ahead. Let's just hope you're not lucky enough to survive it."

The blond's eyes moved from the bored redhead to the streets once more.

"What are you waiting for, brat?"

Deidara frowned, "Why?"

The other male hummed in interest, "Why? Why what?" A inhale of the tobacco and an exhale of smoke.

"Why would you tell someone, who is clearly suicidal to… actually do it, hn?" Deidara gripped the railing tightly. "Aren't you supposed to call the cops or try and stop me… or something?"

The redhead was silent for a moment. Then he finally, finally looked at him straight in the eye. "If you had really wanted to die, you'd already be dead."

The sun had finally set, the sky now cloaked in a smoggy, lit night. The city life continued like normal.

And Deidara still lived.

He sat against the wall that divided him and his neighbor, whom he had not known existed until today. The other male was still present just on the other side, looking as if he had not moved. Another few cigarettes had been used and even passed.

"A coward."

"Me?"

"Obviously."

Deidara frowned. "Maybe."

"No doubt about it."

"Aren't all living things afraid to die, hn?"

The male snorted. "Not at all. Animals don't fear death, nor does the earth below your feet."

"That's because they don't know they're about to be slaughtered," Deidara counted.

"Untrue." A hand, cigarette between slim fingers, extended out to his balcony. "Here."

Deidara took the death stick. "Thanks."

A soft hum.

"How is it untrue, hn?"

A confused hum.

"Animals knowing their slaughter?"

"Ah," the redhead realized. "It's not so much their slaughter, more so… their self-destruction."

"Are you implying animals commit suicide, hn." Deidara swore he had heard someone say that once.

"Not purposefully anyways. That's beside the point. Animals and plants alike just… die. There's no methodical planning involved. They just die. They're not afraid of it. Humans are the only ones afraid to die."

"You make it seem like they have no choice over the matter."

"Oh, they do. They just don't think twice about it."

Deidara watched tendrils of smoke. Even though he couldn't see the male, he was sure he hadn't moved once. "So if we didn't think-"

"If we didn't think twice. If we had no remorse, guilt, or conscious, we'd just do it and it'd be over with."

"Like animals, hn."

"Exactly like animals."

Deidara frowned, "But we're not animals. We're humans."

"Unfortunately."

"You say that like you're the suicidal one."

"Some people can do it. Like a light switch, they just turn off their thoughts and go for it."

Deidara sighed, "I was thinking."

"On the ledge?"

"Yeah."

"That was your first mistake."

"Clearly," the blond huffed. He looked at his balcony, locking his arms across his risen knees and tucked his head down. "What would you have done if I really jumped?"

A pause. Smoke. "What was that, mumbles? One more time."

Deidara stood up and leaned onto the balcony, confronting the redhead with a clear voice. He repeated himself. "What would you have done if I really jumped?"

The redhead stared back at the blond, hand resting on his chin in thought. He shrugged, "Probably continue to live. It's what we do after all. We live, we die, we move on."

The blond frowned, eyebrows furrowed. "No one really cares, do they, hn?"

"Some do," the male muttered. "Most don't."

"Do you?"

"About you?"

"I don't see anyone else attempting to jump from their fifth story window."

The side of the male's lip quirked oddly. "There's someone out there. Probably several someones. Some jumped and some didn't."

"You're not gonna answer it then, hn?"

"I don't know you."

Deidara sighed, "So you don't care then?"

"Maybe?"

The blond quirked an eyebrow. What was that supposed to mean?

"Another beauty to have been swept away by the wind."

"What?" Deidara asked, confused.

The man shook his head, "Nevermind it."

"Sure."

"Better question," the redhead piped up. "Why didn't you jump?"

"Huh?"

"Why didn't you jump? After everything I said to you?"

Deidara pursed his lips. "You know why-"

"You don't want to die?"

"I…" Deidara wasn't sure how to answer the question. There was a moment of silence before he concluded with a thought. "I don't want to exist."

The redhead hummed, "Why jump? Seems a bit dramatic."

"I've always wanted to fly."

The male was quick to respond. "Take a plane."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," the blond rolled his eyes.

"Forgive me."

Deidara felt a ghost of a smirk. "Oh, so you'll apologize for a bad joke, but telling me to kill myself is acceptable?"

The redhead shrugged. "Do you want to die?"

"Not today, I guess."

The male on the other side let out a soft noise. It took Deidara a moment to realize it was a chuckle and not just the guy choking on the toxic plumes of smoke.

"Hold your hand out."

Quite the demand. "Thanks, but I don't need another, hn. I don't really care for smoking," he admitted.

"Something else. I'm out anyways," the male said, flicking the butt out into the streets below.

"Alright…" Deidara did as he was requested. He held out his hand to the redhead, awaiting whatever it might've been. Something heavy and cold. He brought it back over to his own side and audibly gasped at the object. "Uh…"

"You weren't the only one who decided they didn't want to die today."

The blond inspected the gun, checking the clip almost immediately. One bullet. He passed it back to the redhead, the object weighing his hand and heart down. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

Deidara shook his head. "Why would you want to kill yourself?"

"Hypocrite?" The redhead raised an eyebrow. He chuckled nonetheless. "Does it matter?"

"Well-"

"The same as you probably. I've got nothing to live for, so what's the purpose, right? Why bother to live for nothing? We're just creatures wasting oxygen, waiting in line for the day the earth collapses in on itself. Might as well do the world a favor."

Deidara could feel his heart beating, just like he was on the ledge again.

"Do you care?"

No hesitation. "Yes."

"How come?"

Deidara didn't know.

"It's not like we know each other."

"We do now, hn," the blond said firmly.

"Names?"

"If you want?"

The redhead sighed, "I don't think it matters."

Deidara's hand shot out, pinky poised. "I'll live for you."

The redhead stared blankly at the appendage, then at the blond.

"I'll live for you… if you live for me, hn."

The man's eyes narrowed. "People break promises."

Deidara's face and hand dropped.

"It's nothing personal, brat."

"Can I least have your name?"

"What for?"

Deidara took a breath and tried a smile. "So I know who I'm living for."

The redhead stared. Then he walked back inside his apartment, leaving Deidara alone.

The blond frowned, gazing longingly at the now empty spot. With a turn, he tread back into his own apartment, sparing the city one last look. He could only hope that guy would be alright.

A week later, Deidara found himself at his balcony again. He sat with his legs between the bars, dangling in the air. A cigarette between his teeth. An addiction he had once kicked, reborn.

"Still alive I see," a voice taunted.

Deidara didn't bother to look or speak to the man.

"Ah." Amusement. "Mad at me, are we?"

Deidara huffed his smoke.

"You really are a brat."

A flick of his ashes.

Silencing.

Then he spoke again.

"Tragic."

Deidara's eyebrows furrowed.

"Somebody killed themselves today."

The blond tried his best to avoid the man in all senses.

"I thought it might've been you, but it happened a few blocks down."

Deidara had heard about it as well. A failing CEO.

"I'm glad…"

The blond felt disgusted at the words. Infuriated, he turned to the redhead, mouth open and ready to retaliate.

"I'm glad it wasn't you."

His words faltered.

"Here," the redhead sighed, hand stretched out.

The gun.

"I don't think I want to die anytime this week, so if you could take care of it for me until then."

Deidara took the gun. "Why?"

"I just don't want to. Yet."

"No, why're you giving it to me?"

The man shrugged. "So you can trust me." He opened his door. "See you in a week."

Deidara looked the gun over in his hands. He carried it inside and left it on his bedside table for the next few days. Until Friday night. As he lay sleeplessly in bed, he couldn't help but admire the weapon. He took it apart. The last being the clip. He looked inside. A note? He had to get a pair of tweezers to retrieve the stuck paper.

Once removed and gun reassembled, he unfolded the message.

A suicide note.

The neatly scrawled words made him feel something. Sadness? No, something more. Heart ache? He couldn't describe it.

He climbed out of bed, gun and note in hand. His door slid open, the cool breeze blowing his hair and cool concrete chilling his toes. He could see the familiar wisps of smoke.

"Sasori."

Nothing.

"Sasori."

Still nothing.

Deidara frowned and leaned onto his railing to get a good look at the redhead.

"Sasori!"

Said male only raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look," Deidara huffed.

Sasori shrugged and held his hand out. "Please?"

The blond looked down at the items in his hands. He reluctantly returned them.

"Thoughts?"

Deidara rest against the railing. "Depressing, hn."

Sasori chuckled. "Well I'd say they'd go hand in hand." He pocketed his note, but left the gun out.

"I suppose so."

The redhead gazed at the blond.

"I didn't write a note," Deidara admitted.

"No?"

Deidara shook his head. "No one to read it. Why bother?"

Sasori hummed, "Me neither, but I also wasn't going to be on display."

"What do you mean?" the blond asked curiously.

"You were going to jump. That's not very discreet."

"Someone would've heard the gunshot."

Sasori shook his head. "There are ways."

Deidara rolled his eyes. He had come to realize quickly that Sasori was a smartass without even having to try. "Why did you write one then, hn?"

"For the same reason you wanted to jump."

"Depression?"

The redhead snubbed his cigarette. "Attention."

Deidara nearly scoffed. "I wouldn't say-"

"Everyone thinks attention is a bad thing," Sasori interrupted. He did that a lot, Deidara noted. "It really isn't though."

"Why's that?"

"Over seven billion people in the world and all we want is to be noticed at least by one."

Deidara thought about it. "Not everyone does."

"Everyone," Sasori disagreed. "Even the most loneliest of self-acclaimed hermits need some type of socialization. That in itself is a type of recognition. Attention."

"Maybe."

"Maybe," Sasori nodded. "An inkling of hope that maybe someone cared. Humans are too complex and full of useless thoughts to not crave something of the sort."

Deidara shivered as another brush of air swept by. "For someone who complains about human thoughts, you sure do spew a lot of them."

The male only smirked.

The smirk made his own lips quirk up.

"You're cold. You should go back in and try to get some sleep."

"What about you, hn?"

"We'll see," Sasori said softly. "Check back Monday."

Deidara swallowed hard and nodded.

The weekend felt like forever. He was riddled with anxiety. Anxiety that he might not see Sasori again, or that if he did it would be on the news. With those haunting thoughts, he tried everything to distract himself. TV was a no. Nothing good to read. Food was bland. Music annoying. Even sculpting only held his attention for a mere moment. It wasn't until that he sat down at his desk, clearing off his art supply and settling for an ink pen and paper, that his mind channeled his anxiety into something more productive. He had told Sasori that there would be no one to read his suicide note, but if there was someone he would have liked to read it, it would be his neighbor himself.

Monday afternoon crept by slowly. Deidara's palm sweat and his pocket felt loaded. He stood out on his balcony for a few minutes, hoping Sasori would peek his head out. Five minutes turned into ten. Ten turned into thirty.

Soon the sun set.

Deidara had long stopped pacing back and forth. He rest against the separated wall, cradling his own form. He didn't feel the need to cry, but inside him he could feel something. Something bubbling up and wanting to explode. It drove him through many different emotions. Sadness, anger, and then sadness again. Until he was empty. Having had enough, he stood. Over the balcony his note snowed down in fragments. Fuck Sasori. Fuck living for him. Fuck living in general. Fuck his stupid thoughts. He carelessly stepped over the railing. He wanted to let go. "F-Fuck," he croaked, trying to let go.

"Are you really going to do it this time?"

Deidara felt a sense of deja-vu as he whipped his head around. This time the man's presence didn't startle him. Instead it angered and relieved him all at the same time.

"I was thinking," Sasori stated. "A lot." The redhead presented the vile weapon, turning it lazily in his hands. "I don't want to die this week either."

The blond hadn't even registered the warm wetness on his cheeks. He didn't register the pit in his stomach as he looked down at the crowded city below. He only climbed over wordlessly and held out his hand.

Sasori placed the gun in his hand, but didn't let go right away.

Deidara stared at him.

"Open it in two weeks."

The blond's eyebrows twitched in confusion.

"It's alright. I'll come outside this week, if you'd like. We can chat."

Deidara nodded.

"You can't open it until the Monday after next. Deal?"

The blond sighed, "Fine, hn."

Sasori smirked.

The two stayed up until the sun rose. Deidara had learned a lot about Sasori, while sharing his own personals to the redhead. The following days made him decide to rewrite his note. This one, he would give to Sasori personally.

When the following Monday came, Deidara felt his anxiety peak once more. It was finally time to open the gun. Sasori had appreciated his note, but that didn't mean anything did it? To Deidara it did.

He once more checked the gun's ammunition chamber. Two items. A small scrap of paper, harmless. The bullet, terrifying. He read the paper first.

 _I almost did it._

There was more, but Deidara was distraught with overwhelming emotions. He rushed out of his apartment and out to the balcony. Sasori was already waiting.

"Well?" the redhead said expectantly.

"Why?"

"Thoughts."

Deidara frowned.

"Did you read it?"

"Of course I did-"

"All of it?"

Deidara's eyebrow arched. "There was only that scrap."

Sasori shook his head. "The bullet."

The blond began unloading the clip.

"I carve, remember?"

Deidara was surprised to see the bullet, albeit real, did indeed have more writing on it.

"A reason to live?"

Sasori nodded. He held his hand out.

Deidara returned the gun, but was denied returning the bullet.

"Keep it. A reminder."

"A reminder?"

Sasori gave a half smile. "Nobody wants to be forgotten."

Deidara's heart accelerated at his words. "Please…"

"Hm?"

The blond bit his bottom lip. "I… I don't want you to die, hn…"

Sasori covered his mouth, cigarette between his fingers.

"O-One more week."

The redhead raised an eyebrow.

Deidara held out his hand. "One more week, hn," he stated more steadily.

Sasori seemed to contemplate it. He shook his head.

Panic flashed in Deidara's eyes. He thrust his hand forward, more forcefully. "Sasori. One more week. Please."

Again Sasori denied him. "Don't do anything stupid," he muttered, before turning his back on Deidara.

Deidara leaned over the railing. "Sasori! You asshole! Don't do anything stupid!? You're the one who's going to do something stupid! I don't want you to die! You hear me!? I want you to live! I want to keep on having night long chats! I want to hear your know-it-all remarks! I want to keep seeing you!"

His shouts fell upon deaf ears.

"I'll do it!" Deidara shouted. "I'll fucking do it!" He gripped the railing hard, his nails chipping the cheap white paint. "I'll fucking jump! I'll jump! Sasori!" He chomped on his bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed. He couldn't see anything but blurs of his own tears. He moved his hand, ready to jump over to the other side when something hit the concrete. The blond had to wipe his eyes to even see what had fallen. The bullet from before. He must've had it in his hand the entire time and only dropped it when he went to jump. He picked it up, surprised that it hadn't rolled off the edge. Anger consumed him for a moment. He thought about throwing it, but something held him back.

An invisible wall now blocked his path.

He went inside instead.

A year went by and Deidara was still alive. He didn't know why, but he had slowly began to lose the want to die. Especially after he discovered the redhead next door had left. It was hard in the beginning, but the more he thought about it the more he realized. Life was okey. The bullet did serve as a reminder. It hung loosely around his neck. Maybe he should thank Sasori, if he were to ever see him again. Then again, Deidara might just slap him too. It was only after his fit that night did he realize that he had begun to have feelings for the other male. It wasn't fair. How could he have interfered with his life, warm his heart, and then walk away like nothing?!

Maybe it was for the best that Deidara hadn't heard anything on the news about the redhead. He might've actually jumped.

Deidara rouse from his bed in a grumble. The heavy thuds coming from his door, waking him. Probably the apartment manager wanting his rent. He didn't bother with the flashing numbers on his clock, signaling the early morning. The blond groaned and carried himself to his front door. He answered groggily. "I'll have the money tomorrow, hn," he yawned. He blinked slowly.

Then again.

His eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to let me in, brat?"

Deidara let him in of course. Only after slapping him hard across the face.

"You fucking jerk!" he hissed, stomping out of his room. Now fully changed out of his pajamas, he could properly scold Sasori. He stared the man down.

The redhead looked up from his spot on the couch. "Tell me something I don't know."

"I thought you were dead, hn!"

"Again," Sasori rolled his eyes, "something I don't know-"

"Shut up!" Deidara huffed. "Why the hell did you do it!?"

"Do what?"

"Leave! What else?!"

Sasori rubbed his sore cheek. "You slap pretty hard, you know that, brat?"

Deidara growled, stomping up to the man. He pulled him by the front of his shirt so that he was standing with him. "Don't change the subject, asshole! Why did you-"

His question was cut off by the redhead. The one interruption Deidara hadn't planned on encountering.

Sasori cupped the blond's jaw, pulling him closer.

Just as Deidara started comprehending what was happening and before he could respond, Sasori pulled away.

"I did some thinking."

The blond stared at him.

"And I thought… I don't want to die anytime soon." He rubbed the boy's cheek, "So long as I have a reason."

Deidara's bottom lip trembled. "You have some rucking nerve…" He gripped the redhead shirt tighter. "A whole goddamned year. No calls. No letters. Nothing."

"Forgive me," Sasori muttered, wiping the tears away. He could feel his own, but didn't bother.

The blond pouted, "You better make it up to me, hn."

Sasori smirked and flexed his pinky out toward the blond. "I owe you that much."

"And more," Deidara returned the gesture, locking pinkies and lips once more.

Sunrise.


End file.
